


I Could Be Your Beach (if you'd only remember)

by DevinTowerwood



Category: Doki Doki Literature Club! (Visual Novel)
Genre: Canon Divergent, F/F, Pining, Yuri POV, maybe some spookiness idk, protagonist's name is Rose, yuri is a time traveler
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-19
Updated: 2019-05-08
Packaged: 2019-08-04 05:25:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16340618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DevinTowerwood/pseuds/DevinTowerwood
Summary: The day after she and Natsuki take a trip to the beach together, Yuri anxiously avoids talking about the fact that they kissed. When Natsuki is avoiding it too, though, she gets frustrated and embarrassed. It only gets worse when she realizes that Natsuki isn't just pretending it never happened - she has no memory of them ever kissing.Yuri starts to grow suspicious that someone is interfering with Natsuki's mind.





	1. What Happened to Thursday at the Beach?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [priestessamy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/priestessamy/gifts).



 

> **Natsuki:** hey yuri, could i talk to you real quick?

_Oh, God._ I'd been afraid to get this text since yesterday. I know ignoring things isn't really her strong suit, but I was hoping, just this once, that she'd agree to forget all about our trip to the beach.

> **Me:** I suppose.
> 
> **Natsuki:** cool. is it OK if i call you?

Calling? That's even worse than talking on person! We could have just talked as we left the club room and we would have been free to walk away afterwards (and probably never speak to each other again, or something).

> **Me:** Sure, that's fine!

_God I'm a fucking idiot._

My phone starts ringing a few seconds later and all I can do is stare at the paint texture of my wall. I don't want to talk to Natsuki about this. What if she says it was weird? What if she says it was  _creepy_? What if she thinks we shouldn't hang out anymore? Or, even more complicated, what if she  _wants_ to hang out more? What if she's been overthinking that kiss just as much as I have?

 _Me:_ "Hey."

 _Natsuki:_ "Hey Yuri. How's your day?"

 _Me:_ "I mean, I got home from the club like . . . an hour ago, so fine. How about you?"

 _Natsuki:_ "Also kind of nervous, actually."

 _Me:_ "Oh?"

_Oh? What, am I trying to prompt her into talking about it?_

Natsuki laughed uncomfortably over the phone for a second, then said,

 _Natsuki:_ "Yeah, I guess I just . . . I'm worried about Sayori."

 _Me:_ "Sayori? Why?"

 _Natsuki:_ "Well . . . I guess it's just . . . well, it's Rose."

I have absolutely no idea what's going on. Sayori and Rose? That's what she wants to talk about? Not us?

 _Me:_ "Huh? What about Rose?"

 _Natsuki:_ "Well, you know how Rose and Monika have been walking home together? And how Sayori's been pretty depressed?"

 _Me:_ "Sure? . . . wait, do you think these are connected?"

 _Natsuki:_ "Uh, duh. Sayori's like, head over heels for Rose. Have you seriously not noticed?"

 _Me:_ "I thought they were just friends?"

 _Natsuki:_ "Yuri, Yuri, Yuri. Dear Yuri. You are an idiot."

That stings a little, but she's probably right. Whatever I've missed was probably obvious the whole time.

 _Natsuki:_ "Look, Sayori and Rose have been best friends for a billion years, and Sayori invited Rose into the club so they could hang out more.  _Then_ Rose ends up hanging out with Monika more 'cause she's always there until the end of meetings and they help her clean up, so Sayori actually just gets to spend her club time getting ignored. This is like, transparent and also really sad."

I'm not really sure what to say, so I just go with an,

 _Me:_ "Oh."

 _Natsuki:_ "SO WHAT I WAS TRYING TO SAY is, like, we should invite Sayori to hang out with us more. It's bad enough she's got to watch the stuff with Rose, but she shouldn't have to be alone, too."

 _Me:_ "Oh, okay."

I hesitate for a moment, then tack on,

 _Me:_ "I thought we were trying to spend more time together, though? . . . just the two of us?"

It sounds whiny and I know it, and for a second I consider taking it back. Now that it's clear Natsuki really does plan on ignoring what happened yesterday, I can't feel much interest in any other topic.

 _Natsuki:_ "I mean . . . yeah. But the more, the merrier, right?"

I know Natsuki's right, vaguely. And in the abstract, I get along with Sayori better than I do Natsuki, and we're a lot more harmonious as a group. But hanging out with Sayori can be such a downer, and if she's been getting worse, having fun is probably right out. And that's the main difference between hanging out with the group and just Natsuki, isn't it? Just getting to have fun, knowing that being away from home is always going to be the right choice?

I want to see Natsuki. I just wish she wanted to see me, too.

 _Me:_ " . . . sure, I guess."

 _Natsuki:_ "Cool. Want to meet up after our club tasks Sunday and go see her?"

 _Me:_ "Sure."

_Pause._

_Me:_ "Um, come to think of it, why don't you come over and bake at my place?"

I've got my hand in the air already, on the edge of rewinding before I even hear her answer. Nervous energy sits under my skin like an itch, and even as I feel my fingers pull the threads of time taut, I hesitate, realizing there's no way I can turn it back without hearing her answer.

 _Natsuki:_ "Really? . . . that would be . . . really cool, actually."

I'm so startled, I nearly rewind under the impression that she really said the horrible things I imagined instead of what she clearly just said. After a few seconds, though, I let the threads go, and my skin crawls with sudden anticipation.

 _Me:_ "Awesome. I'll text you my address."

I'm too excited now, and I need to get off the call. I could probably get away with it while being on the phone with Natsuki, but I'd prefer not to add complications.

 _Natsuki_ : "Okay. You'll get a free cupcake for hosting me."

 _Me:_ "Natsuki, I am a club member. Don't I already get a free cupcake?"

 _Natsuki:_ ". . . okay. So you get  _two_ free cupcakes. With kittens. Final offer."

I'm breathless. Are we flirting? I think this is flirting. I hate how excitable I am - she probably thinks I'm so fucking weird.

 _Me:_ "Deal. See you Sunday."

 

Sunday turns out to be a lot less fun than I imagined, thanks to the fact that both of our Festival tasks turned out to be a lot of effort. Natsuki has been at my house for almost six hours by the time I wrap up the decorations, and her cupcakes are still being taken out of the freezer and decorated in stages. I don't really have the dexterity or know-how to help, so I just sit on the counter near where she works and try to pretend I don't wish she were paying more attention to me instead.

Natsuki's phone buzzes, and she sets her stuff down to check it.

"Oh, huh. Apparently Sayori's hanging out with Rose today. I don't think she really wants to hang out."

Natsuki sounds iffy about this news, but I crack a small smile.

"Oh? That's too bad. But at least we can still hang out when you're done with the cupcakes, right?"

Natsuki frowns, staring at her phone for another minute before stuffing it in her pocket. "Actually . . . it's getting pretty late. I should be getting home."

 _Seriously?_ I lock my expression in place, but behind the smile my heart falls. I somehow spent the whole day with Natsuki and it feels like I barely saw her. I thought things were going to be different between us. I thought there was no going back from what happened Thursday, and yet . . .

I drop from the counter and put my hands on my hips. "Well, fine. But at least let me walk you home. You shouldn't be all alone in the dark."

Natsuki's eyes narrow as she crosses her arms over her chest. "Then  _you'll_ be walking home alone."

"Hmm." That's a fair point, but I'm not going to let it stop me. "I should help you carry your stuff back."

Natsuki says, "I walked literally all of it here myself?"

Natsuki looks irritated and I know I'm irritated at how stubborn she's being. But at least I can be stubborn back.

"Well, then, because we're going to get soup on the way and I'm buying."

She keeps glaring at me for a moment, but gradually it breaks and she smiles. "Fine, whatever. If you insist, I'm not going to stop you."

 

It's colder out than I expected it to be. Even with a sweater, I still feel the need to stop, roll back my sweater paws and buy us some cocoa to stay warm while we walk the path next to the beach. The salt taste and chill in the air brings back memories of Thursday, and I'm glad that it's too dark to make out my blush. Natsuki insists she's fine in her summer dress, just like she insists she's fine carrying everything while I hold one (1) tray of cupcakes, but seeing as she wouldn't take a coat and won't hand me any more of her supplies, I don't have much leverage to contest it.

"I wish we could spend more days out here like this," I say idly, looking out over the ocean.

Natsuki doesn't reply, and our quiet stroll remains quiet. Maybe she's thinking about Thursday, too. Or maybe she's still thinking about Sayori, about how she was going to cheer her up tomorrow at the festival. Natsuki likes to play that she's transparent, but I rarely, if ever, really know what she's thinking. After reading her poem Friday, I thought I knew, or at least had a clue. But all weekend, it's been clear I still don't know a thing.

"I wish we didn't need the club. Like . . . we could just be normal high schoolers." Natsuki doesn't look up from the sidewalk while she talks, and I can tell her mind is distant, somewhere I don't know how to follow.

"Maybe, if we combined all the club's resources, we could all form together into one whole regular kid." I say before a sip of cocoa.

Natsuki chuckles at that. "Maybe. Or maybe we'd just make the most fucked-up kid in existence. Imagine your parents being gone as much as they are but when they get back they're somehow both sopping drunk and also super into yoga."

I shudder. "God, hold me, you've chilled me to the depths of my soul. I was thinking Sayori's allowance, my fan fiction, and your manga and we're just like, a bookish kid."

"Ew, that's worse. Now we're just Rose."

We laugh for a while, but when we calm down a bit, Natsuki says, "I wish we could just have like, Monika or Rose's parents, though. Neither of them ever mention problems with their parents, do they? Like literally never."

"I don't . . . think so," I reply, trying to think through the few months I've been able to say I actually 'know' Monika. I don't _think_ she's ever brought up her parents, which is probably a good sign. It's not like I'd been very up-front about my family situation either, but how could someone like Monika have problems? She takes singing lessons with a tutor!

Envy coils around my heart and spews its venom. I don't want to be angry at Monika, so it just turns towards the easiest target. "Y'now, it's a good thing I've never met your dad. I'd kill him."

Natsuki's amused. "Oh yeah? He's kind of a big guy. I'm not sure how much luck you'd have with that."

I shrug. "Size isn't much of an advantage when faced with an axe or something."

"Huh. I guess it  _is_ a good thing you haven't met my dad."

I know she's trying to be funny, but her heart's not in it. I know I've taken the fun out of this whole conversation. She always acts like this, and I always know she'll act like this, and yet I keep saying stuff like this. I don't know if she dislikes it because she thinks some part of me is serious, or because she thinks I'm not. But I mean it. Given the chance, I think I would kill him again and again, wiping away the horrible future that awaits us both in the end to smile and pretend I don't resent every minute she spends with him. Thinking about what her life is like outside of the club room, outside of these brief walks together, always fills me with something hot and boiling under my skin, trying to melt me down.

Sometimes I wonder if I hate Natsuki's dad so much because I can't bring myself to hate my own properly. If I ever did, rewinding time might not be enough to undo the damage I'd cause.

The urge to cut reminds me of that nervous itch from Thursday, and I wonder where along the beach we were when we kissed.

There is a long pause before we speak again.

I finally start, quietly, "Hey, Natsuki?"

"Hmm?"

"You haven't brought up our trip to the beach at all . . . did I do something wrong?"

Natsuki gives me a quizzical look. "What? Were we planning a beach trip I forgot?"

"Huh?" Then, catching her meaning, I reply, "No, um, I mean this past Thursday. When you and I went out to the beach for inspiration and we . . ."

I can't make Natsuki's face out in detail, and I hope she can't make mine out at all. What is on it? Eagerness? Hesitation? Fear? I don't know. As much as I like to think I can keep a straight face, I know when I get nervous my composure can start to slip.

"I don't . . . remember going to the beach? Are you sure we did that?"

We keep walking normally but I feel frozen. _Is she really so ashamed of it that she won't even acknowledge that it happened? That doesn't seem like her at all - she insists you're supposed to acknowledge mistakes and all that. And if this is a joke, it's a cruel joke. She can be dense, but she's not cruel, is she? She wouldn't pretend just to get a reaction out of me, would she?_

A worse possibility creeps into my mind. _Did I undo our kiss? Did I undo our whole trip to the beach?_ I certainly don't remember doing so, but maybe I was so embarrassed that I subconsciously wished it had never happened and that we could forget about it, and I'd made that a reality. Have I stolen that whole evening from myself? From Natsuki?

 _No, no, there's no way._ Natsuki and I wrote poems about the beach. Hers had been so cute, it definitely had been  _about_ us, hadn't it? Hadn't it?

"Y-yeah, we did. I mean, you wrote a poem about it, didn't you? About our -"

Natsuki shrugs, "Oh, that? I didn't go to the beach for that, I just listened to some music for inspiration."

". . . right."

I don't know what to say. I don't think she's faking. I . . . could I have made that all up in my head? Sometimes I can take day dreaming kind of far, but there's no way I convinced myself that Natsuki's poem was real and about us when that just didn't happen, right?

I don't look up, but I at least ask, "Natsuki, do you remember when we kissed?"

"Huh?" she asks, surprised. Then, incredulous, "What did you say?"

"Nothing," I reply, and give time a quick tug back.

"Natsuki," I start again, "What did you do Thursday after school?"

"Huh?" she asks. "Uhh, I went home . . . and wrote my poem, I guess."

"You guess?" I ask.

"I mean, yeah?" I must have sounded more suspicious than I meant to, because she sounds defensive. "I dunno, Thursday was just, like, a day. I don't remember much of it."

"Do you remember me asking to walk with you after Literature Club?"

"No . . . did you?"

"Yeah," I reply.

"Weird," she says. Then, after a brief pause, "I don't really remember what we did in the club Thursday, either."

"Hmm," I hum to myself for a second. "Strange," I mutter, before I wrap a finger around our timeline and pull us back.

We walk quietly past the same spot for the third time, but this time I have no idea what questions to ask. This is beyond me wiping away one version of Thursday - it's like Natsuki didn't  _have_ a Thursday. I don't even think that's within my power intentionally, never mind as a subconscious wish.

For a second I consider tossing aside the past few days to return to our trip to the beach, to live it over and make sure it was all real, to wonder once again if she'd meet me halfway as I leaned on my hands closer to her face. At the time I hadn't known what had come over me, just diving into the small talk to pretend it happened, no idea what that look in her eyes might be.

I know it won't be the same if I try to live it again. Every time I try to experience a good thing a second time with the rewind, it never feels the same, and the only mark I have that it was ever a reality is a memory. I don't want to lose that evening on the beach. Then we'll both have lost it.

Natsuki sighs and says, "Y'know . . . I'd like soup but . . . it's dark. I should already have been back home. Rain check?"

I know the combination of 'no dinner' plus 'violated a rule' is going to have cruel consequences, but if Natsuki is more afraid of it getting even later than she is of going without food, then I am, too. I can always wake up early tomorrow morning, make an extra-big lunch. We should mitigate as much as we can.

"For sure. Plus, we'll want to be up early for the festival, so . . ."

"Definitely."

 

Natsuki takes all of her supplies while we're still around the corner from her house and disappears with a simple, "Good night." It's not at all how I wanted this evening to go, but it's little different from the few times I've walked with her before. Somehow, while everything about my friendship with Natsuki changed for me, none of it changed for her. Thursday is gone, blank, and I'm just the brooding girl from her club again. I never even got the chance to know if I could have been something different.

I walk home from her house with my hand in my bag, rubbing my thumb along my knife's handle. Whatever has happened to Natsuki, I doubt it's something that's going to jump out from behind a street lamp to spook me, but I can't get away from the feeling that I'm being watched.


	2. I don't understand anything you're saying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri, Sayori, and Natsuki attend the school festival together. Yuri overhears a weird conversation between Monika and Rose. Monika offers Yuri a bit of advice.

"No one has fried squid? Seriously?"

Sayori and I picked up Natsuki after her shift at the Literature Club, and we've done nothing but hunt for food since then. No matter where we look, however, no one is making squid, and Natsuki is starting to get pouty about it.

"Don't you like takoyaki better?" I ask, "I'll just buy you that."

"I do, and I have money, I was just looking forward to it."

I didn't expect this to be such a focus in our time in the festival - we had barely glanced at the other clubs, nevermind seeing what they're putting on. Between getting to spend extra time with Natsuki and spend extra time walking, I'm not sure if this is better or worse than sitting quietly in the Literature Club room like I'd anticipated.

Sayori freezes and quietly gasps. It takes me a few seconds to see what caught her attention; further down the hall, a small, unfamiliar first-year is dressed like a Lolita maid. Is there a maid cafe at the festival?

I jump as she grasps my forearm, but she doesn't seem to notice. Still following the girl with her eyes, she says, "Yuri, you'd make such a good cafe maid."

Natsuki pivots so we form a little triangle in the side of the hallway. She waves her hand dismissively and says, "Big boobs does not equal good maid. Her hair is way too long and she's too tall."

I pretend I didn't hear any of that. I just fidget with my hair instead. "I like hospitality, but I don't really like maid outfits."

"Really?!" Sayori finally turns to look at me as the girl turns a corner of the hallway, out of sight. "I love them! They're so cute and elegant."

She laughs uncomfortably and tacks on, "I'm just too clumsy to pull it off."

Natsuki starts to protest, but before she can get out more than a discontented face, Sayori points at a door across the hall. It's labeled  **Haunted Maze of Horrors - Enter if you dare.**  

"We've gotta!"

"I mean, we don't-" I start, but Sayori has already started towards it.

Natsuki and I glance at each other, she shrugs, and we follow.

The inside of the maze is less than impressive. A divider to our right blocks our view of most of the classroom, but although they pinned sheets over the windows, an ultraviolet light in the corner makes the artificial corridor easy enough to see. The light sits behind a small field of grave stones, eerily illuminated but impossible to read with the light behind them. Cobwebs and spiders cover every surface that is too bare to be interesting, which is most of them. A path of masking tape begins just before us, reminding us that the maze is to be seen, not touched.

As soon as Natsuki and I close the door, Sayori doubles back behind Natsuki. "It's too scary," she says, latching onto the back of Natsuki's shirt. "You go first."

"Jeeze." Natsuki rolls her eyes, but does nothing to get rid of Sayori.

Petty jealousy pricks my heart. I glance at Natsuki's hand for just a moment, stepping further away from her. We're clearly meant to go single file, but I'd prefer not to trip over Sayori or have anyone behind me (ever), so I just step onto the masking tape as if it were a balance beam.

"Are you scared, too?"

"Huh?" I ask, turning back to Natsuki. She holds her hand aloft, a clear invitation to take it.

My heart stutters for a moment, forgetting the context of her question. We've never held hands, barely ever touched except for that one kiss. If I just say I'm scared, or say nothing and take her hand, she's guaranteed to hold my hand through this whole maze, and no one would find it weird. But at the same time, Natsuki is missing context, too. There's no way for her to know what that offer means to me, what her touch could do to me. She doesn't remember. She doesn't know. And if she doesn't know, how can I accept, knowing she cannot understand what my acceptance means? With the differences in our knowledge, it feels wrong, almost coercive.

_I can't._

"No, thank you."

As we start walking, I become too aware of my hands, and hold them behind my back.

What if . . . Natsuki  _wants_ to hold my hand?

We turn the first corner to reveal a full-length coffin, its lid left askew. A scare, and an obvious one. I should probably stand between Sayori and it so whoever is inside won't freak her out.

"Unless you want to?"

"I'm not scared," Natsuki replies as we approach the coffin.

That is apparently bait too sweet to refuse, because immediately a hand, painted white, lunges from the casket, groping towards my skirt. Sayori screams as I turn and the hand falls just short of me, and that's enough to make me giggle. I don't think Sayori is really scared, but it's nice that she's putting in the effort to fake it.

Something lands on my shoulder, and this time I'm the one screaming. I jump out of the way to find a plastic skeletal hand dancing around, extending from over the riser. Whoever sits on the other side gives their best evil laugh, and so embarrassed am I that all I can do is glare. I wasn't scared because it was spooky - I just don't like things coming up behind me, that's all.

Natsuki takes my hand abruptly, and starts dragging me down the path again. Meanwhile, Sayori calls out, "Good job! You scared her!"

"You could have just told me you were scared," Natsuki huffs, slowing to a snail's pace as soon as we're all out of reach from the plastic hand. A gigantic spider sits over the second window, visible only in silhouette thanks to the sheets not-totally blocking out the sun.

"I'm not scared."

I am scared, but not of the maze. I'm scared that my palm is sweaty, that Natsuki thinks I'm a child, that she'll never remember Thursday at the beach. I've been scared since I said goodbye to her that night.

_Remember._

I trace my thumb along the side of her palm, and I don't let go.

 

The following day, I find myself taking a different route than usual to get to the Literature Club room so I don't have to walk through the rain. The school is divided into several three-story buildings, with third-year classrooms always on the second floor. However, the first floors (and some of the second floors) connect in a large semi-circle, so if you're dedicated enough, you can get from one side of campus to the other without stepping out from under an awning.

The elevators are always busy for a few minutes after the school day lets out as people head to clubs or home, so I take the stairs today, planning to run by the empty music classes while the second floor is deserted.

Except, it isn't deserted. As soon as I reach the second floor, I recognize a piano playing somewhere further down the hall, and over that, soft singing I can't quite make out. I glance at the stairs to the third floor, but . . . I am running early. I don't think I'll be late to the club if I see who's playing.

 _Have I found everybody a fun assignment to do today?  
_ _When you're here, everything that we do is fun for them anyway._

When I peer through the window, I find Monika at the piano with Rose standing beside her bench, looking pleased. Monika's singing along with her unfamiliar song;

 _When I can't even read my own feelings  
__What good are words when a smile says it all?_  
_And if this world won't write me an ending,_  
_What will it take just for me to have it all?_

Although she plays a few more notes after the words are over, the song ends abruptly just as she's starting another verse. She laughs uncomfortably, scratching the side of her face.

"I haven't really figured out a new third verse yet, I guess. Now that you're here it feels a little . . . out of tone."

I press my ear up against the cool metal, not wanting to catch their eye and definitely wanting to hear what's going on. Natsuki's convinced that there's something going on with these two, but I'd prefer to know that for myself.

"Well, I thought that was really good," Rose replies. Rose thinks  _everything_ is really good - they're not exactly the creative type, by which I mean they never have any meaningful feedback when we exchange poems. That being said, they're sincere about it, and that's worth something. I might like to joke about how useless they are with Natsuki, but . . . there's something to be said for relentless positivity when the rest of us are so self-conscious about our work.

"I mean, when did you even have time to learn? You're really good at the piano - I thought you'd just started?"

"Well, I picked it up a few months ago," Monika says, "but I wasn't really feeling inspired at first. It's really been coming together since you joined the Literature Club, though - I've got plenty of time to practice when I'm off-scene."

_What does that mean? Has she been working on a stage play?_

There's a long moment where I can't hear anything more. Then, Rose breaks it, "So, do you think everyone had fun at the festival? Sayori was texting me about how good it was, at least, but she's not exactly a reliable judge."

Monika laughs again, but she still sounds uncomfortable. I really can't tell what Natsuki is seeing here that I'm not - even if Rose is interested in Monika, it doesn't sound like she's having a very good time.

"Rose?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you having fun?"

"Eh? Yeah, totally. The Literature Club is pretty great, even if I didn't really think it'd be my thing."

A few seconds tick by. Then Monika asks, "So, do you . . . think you'll keep playing?"

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"Oh, nothing!" Monika replies, suddenly louder. Nervous.

The bench scrapes along the linoleum as she stands up. I take a few strands of time in my fingers, ready to pull myself back in time, but neither of them walk towards the door.

Quieter now, Monika says, "I just . . . I wish you could talk to me directly, you know? Rose is nice but they're not . . . you."

Rose says nothing.

I risk a peek, and realize that Monika is still sitting on the bench, though backed away from the piano. Rose stands there with a blank expression, as if they were still listening to the music.

Monika starts talking faster now, tucking a long strand of hair behind her ear. "I've been working on an interface for you, you know. Something more sophisticated than preferences, with text boxes and stuff. I've been learning a lot more about coding Python so I can edit things if my thoughts don't turn out the way I thought they would. No more glitching!. . . ideally. I even managed to keep everyone going after the festival, although I'm not . . . super certain how they'll behave now that they're less scripted."

She glances over her shoulder at Rose, but she doesn't look at his face - more like his chest. She waves her hands and says, "Don't worry, though! I haven't interfered with anyone's personalities or anything. Sayori's still depressed, just like, run-of-the-mill depressed. Natsuki and Yuri are still . . . well. You know. The same."

Monika glances at her phone, then says, "Oh, gosh, I didn't realize how much time had passed. We should probably get to the club room, huh?"

I duck out of the way before either of them turns towards the door. Rose only manages a little, "Yeah, totally," before I tug the threads of time, pulling myself back to the moment I reached the second floor. It would be better if there was no sign that I had eavesdropped, not even a time discrepancy. Whatever the hell Monika had been saying, I don't want her knowing I heard it.

_What the fuck?_

 

The club is short today, and I spend most of my time sitting quietly while the others talk about the festival. By the end, Monika asks us all to mull over one critical question: what comes next for us? and then we're packing up.

Rose and Sayori are already out the door by the time I'm packed up, aiming to conveniently leave at the exact same time as Natsuki so we can walk together for a little while. As soon as she's ready to go, though, Monika approaches me.

"Hey there Yuri. Could I talk to you for a minute?"

"Um . . . sure."

Natsuki glances over at us, but I just shrug. She shrugs back, then turns to leave.

Monika maintains a static smile until Natsuki is out of the room, and even when she does, Monika waits for the sound of her footsteps. I fidget with my hair while the footsteps die away. Normally I'd be pissed, but given-

"It's pretty impolite to eavesdrop on people, you know," she says, her saccharine smile returning.

My skin is cold and my blood feels colder - I shrug. "What are you talking about?"

Monika's gaze bores into you - it's loud, and it gets louder the longer you ignore it. I ignore it.

"You may have heard some pretty strange things earlier, but you don't need to be worried about them. Are you worried?"

I shake my head 'no.'

There's a short moment where she says nothing, as if she's evaluating me to see if I pass.

It appears I do. Her smile dims to something more natural and she says, "Okay. I'm not worried if you're not worried. Why don't you go on home - I'll see you tomorrow."

I nod and put my bag on. All I have to do is take ten steps out the door and then not look back, and this is over. I might still be able to catch Natsuki. Two steps, open door, one step, close door. It's so easy. All I have to do is keep my mouth shut and-

"Who were you talking to?" My hand is on the door handle, and I have not kept my mouth shut. I hold a knot of time in my hand as tightly as I do the door handle, but I can't pull either of them, not until she says something.

"Rose, of course."

_Take it back. Take it back take it back take it back._

I shake my head again, then drop my hand back to my side as I turn to look at her. "No you weren't."

She's not smiling at me, which is nice - she just cocks her head as she waits for an explanation.

"It's . . . like you were talking to a camera. And Rose was just the camera man. They're not 'you,' whoever that is."

Monika smiles again, but it burns itself out fast like a match. "You're pretty perceptive, huh?"

Monika steps closer to the door, to me, and her footsteps sound far too loud. I can hear everything I shouldn't be hearing - my heart beat and breath, none of the words I want to put together in my head.

"I think it would be better for everyone if you just forgot the whole thing. Don't you?" The stare without the smile is worse, somehow, and now I can't look away.

I've never been in a fight, and I don't plan to start. But without instruction, my fingers search my bag for a knife, gripping it tightly. Just its touch makes me more like it - hard, sharp, cold. Only my grip keeps me from trembling.

"Forget, huh?"

Monika tilts her head curiously, glancing down at my bag.

"Are you going to  _make_ me forget? Is that what you did to Natsuki?"

Her expression and voice both soften, but she ignores me. "What are you going to do with that knife, Yuri?"

What could I possibly do? Threaten her? Destroy my entire fucking life because I have a gut feeling that she is wrong, that she is fake and awful and this is all her fault? Or just let this lump in my throat build and build until I can't talk and I stand here, frozen until she just leaves.

"I don't know. I don't know, I just want Natsuki to remember me."

Monika shakes her head. "I can't make that happen."

There are tears on my face. Everything is red, loud, different and yet the same as when I have to cut. I don't know what the knife wants me to do, but I can't let go - I need to be hard, cold, sharp.

"Please."

"I can't."

"I hate you so fucking much I - I just wish I could hurt you. What did you  _do_ , Monika?"

"You know, that's something I really appreciate about you, Yuri. You always choose to hurt instead of hurting someone else. I know that's not perfect or anything, but I think you're trying your best."

"WHY ARE YOU MESSING WITH US?!"

Is it all in my head? Why is nothing she's saying making any sense, or connecting to what I'm saying? It's like we're both having a conversation and I don't understand either of them.

Seconds tick by and Monika says nothing. Her arms are crossed over her chest and she taps a finger slowly as if she has to buffer to give a response.

She sighs. "Look. I messed around with Natsuki's memories a little bit for practice, but she was just supposed to walk home from school. I had no idea there was something important that she would miss."

It's exactly like I thought and I have no idea what I thought. I don't even know what she means.

"Well, last Thursday was extremely important. To me."

"Evidently," she replies. "Why?"

I haven't had a clue how to say it, how to tell anyone what happened, but right now it's not a confession, it's an accusation. I can do that.

"Because she kissed me! Because every time I see her I feel weird and sick and I can't stop thinking about that kiss all the time. But for Natsuki there's, there's just nothing! Nothing happened! I'm just the same to her."

Monika's brow furrows in thought. "Oh," she says plainly. When she continues, all of her regular sweetness is gone. "Well, she clearly feels something for you anyway if she kissed you."

_No. No. No. That's not right._

"She only liked me because Thursday . . . it was special."

"Any day with someone you love can be special," Monika replies, wistful.

_What . . . am I supposed to say to that?_

I still don't understand what she's saying, but the tone has changed so much that holding the knife feels stupid, childish somehow, and I let it go.

We stand there, saying nothing, not making eye contact. For some reason, I believe her. She can't give me what I want. And even if this is her fault, I can't punish her without making things worse, so much worse. She might be the closest thing I've got to a confidant . . . and I might be the closest thing she's got to one, too.

"Monika."

"Hm?"

My hands are back to my hair as if I hadn't spent the past several minutes grasping a knife.

"Do you like Rose . . . or the person you were talking to in the music room."

Her smile is back. I cannot tell if it is fake or not.

"Why can't I like both?"

". . . nevermind."

This is weird. This is all too fucking weird, and it's all I can take right now. I don't know what the next minute has in store, but it can't be any more of this.

"I've got to go," I say, already half-way through the door.

"You know I can't have you going around remembering what you saw, right?"

I pause, glancing over my shoulder. The smile is definitely fake.

I nod - "Yeah" - and close the door behind me.

 

Natsuki is waiting at the stairwell when I arrive, much to my delight. She glances up and waves before pulling herself up.

"You waited for me?"

She only shrugs in response, but even that manages to make my heart flutter. She cares. Silence can't hide that she cares.

"What'd Monika want to talk about?" she asks as we leave the school building

"Oh, nothing much, just . . ." I trail off, trying to retrace my steps.

Back inside, back up the stairs, back to the door of the club room. My hand is on the door and there is ringing in my ears - everything is white and I can taste blood. It drips from my mouth and from my eyes, and there are are crows on my chest and on my face, leaving nothing but oozing holes. On my chest. On my face. Where my heart was there is a clock, and every time the clock ticks the gears that are my eyes weep oil and blood. I am rusting and the ticking is slowing but the blood and the oil won't stop. The iron in my blood becomes my rusted skin and I am empty, no flesh left for the crows, no oil left for the gears. And that emptiness is deafening.

"Just?" Natsuki prompts me.

I shake my head clear and smile. "Just nothing."

I tuck my hair back, then add, "Thanks for waiting for me."

"No problem."

I can't take Natsuki's hand without an excuse this time around, but that's okay. We walk close, and that's enough.

She cares. That's enough to make today special.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally planned on having a mysterious plot.
> 
> I decided against that.
> 
> They'll kiss next time.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there friends. I just really like Natsuri and I have no idea where I'm going with this. I don't even know what the content of this AU is yet! But Natsuki and Yuri _will_ kiss.


End file.
